


The Princess and the Star

by Beleriandings



Series: Tales of Lake Mithrim [13]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Lake Mithrim politics, somewhat fluffy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the final days at Lake Mithrim, Lalwen and her young lover discuss the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess and the Star

“We’re leaving soon” said Lalwen, getting up to light the lamp, her nose wrinkling a little with displeasure as her feet touched the cold floor. “My brother is to take up his seat in Hithlum. I wasn’t sure you knew.”

Elenniel smiled, drawing the covers of the bed back around herself as the cold air rushed into the gap beside her that Lalwen had just vacated. “My lady, you should know by now that I know everything that goes on around here.”

Lalwen turned back to look at her, laughter starting at the corners of her eyes. “Of course you do, of course you do. It is your job as my… assistant to know everything after all.” She grinned. “I can’t imagine why I would keep you around otherwise…”

“No? Are you sure you cannot think of anything, your Ladyship?”

Lalwen scoffed, placing the lamp on the table to radiate a soft golden glow across the room. She hadn’t bothered to put on a robe as she left the bed and her naked skin prickled with the chill air of the room. She resolved to return to the bed and stay there with Elenniel for as long as she could today. “You sweet tease. Are you really going to go back to calling me that terrible appellation?”

Lalwen tiptoed back over to the bed, running her fingers through her long dark hair to try to tease some of the tangles out. She looked down at the younger girl for a minute, who sank down amidst the covers, pulling them up around herself with a wicked smile that seemed to flash out of nothing on her usually mild and calm features. Then Elenniel’s face disappeared under the blankets, leaving only a thick mass of silver-white curls visible.

Lalwen huffed impatiently, trying to peel back the blankets, with full intent to brush a soft, delicately chaste kiss across her full lips, to see how much Elenniel would stand before she threw her brown-skinned arms around Lalwen again and pulled her back into the bed. But Elenniel clung to the blankets, and for a moment they tussled before Lalwen relented. “Alright. You win this time” she said, lying down atop the blankets beside where her lover was curled beneath them. She ran her fingers through the tangle of silver curls protruding from the gap. She remembered the day she had first seen Elenniel, arriving as part of the Sindarin delegation; she had been fascinated by her hair even then, despite the circumstances. But not just that; despite her brother and the situation and her people, she had felt her eyes drawn to that tall, strong-limbed young girl standing at the back of the group of Sindarin envoys. Her brown skin and wide brown-black eyes, so different from Lalwen’s own. A girl with a rippled sheet of silver hair such as Lalwen had never seen before. She had immediately felt a sudden desire to know what it felt like, although she had immediately dismissed the notion and stared determinedly at anything else she could throughout the entire council. Elenniel’s face had been a calculated picture of neutrality that day, she knew.

“What do I win?” said Elenniel, interrupting Lalwen’s thoughts. She pulled back the blankets to look up at her.

“You win…” Lalwen shook her head, before running her thumb along the curve of Elenniel’s cheek, and down her jaw. Her cheeks and the bridge of her nose were scattered with freckles; they were almost the same shade as her skin though, and could only be seen when their faces were this close, a fact that caused Lalwen no end of fascination. “You win… a new home, if you want it” said Lalwen slowly, twining a strand of Elenniel’s hair through her fingers. “I will make you a great lady of the court, and just watch my brother try to stop me, High King or not.”

Elenniel smiled that mild, amused smile. “Ah, but you forget, I am already a lady of my own people…”

“I know” said Lalwen, a little too quickly. She felt her cheeks redden and cursed her pale Ñoldorin skin for giving her away so easily. She gritted her teeth as Elenniel began to laugh, pulling her into an embrace. The younger woman was warm from staying under the blankets, her hair tickling Lalwen’s cheek. “Wouldn’t you rather stay with me though?” said Lalwen, feigning injury. “You were chosen as an envoy for your people. To live with these strange creatures from across the sea, to learn their ways, something about cross cultural cooperation… you know the sort of rhetoric. The sort my brother and his council also like.”

“I know it well” said Elenniel. She raised her head a little. “Do you think… do you think they mind? Me, I mean. Do they resent me, your family?”  
Lalwen frowned, sweeping back the hair that had fallen across Elenniel’s face so that she could see her eyes. “Sweet, are you really worried about that? Why should they resent you?”

“Because…” she gestured around the room. “You. I haven’t earned this, I was only your lady in waiting or your companion or something, I was practically in your service, until…” her face darkened. “I didn’t cross the Ice like they did, I just - ”

“No.” Said Lalwen firmly. “Stop that. There is no competition here, no race to claim the most suffering and the most tragic story for a place at court. My brother has no claim on me, nor do any of my nieces and nephews. Yes, you were put into my service but you were never my creature until you wanted to be, I think.” She kissed Elenniel’s bare shoulder. “If the princess were to elevate her sweet, trusted lady to the council of the High King, they would not be able to stop me in that either. And anyway, your history could hardly be called calm and peaceful, could it?”

“No, but…” Elenniel stopped, realising what Lalwen had said. “I… really? The council?”

Lalwen shrugged. “Why not? You are cleverer than a good few of Ñolwë’s lords that I could name, and I put a good deal more trust in you too.”

“They’ll all know why that is by now” said Elenniel, sounding a little downcast again.

“And if they do, then so what?” Lalwen’s voice was louder now, and she sat up a little straighter, although she did not shrug off Elenniel’s arms. “My Elenniel, sweet silver star, you are hardly the first to be elevated to such an office straight from the bed of one of the king’s most trusted councillors.” She laughed lightly at Elenniel’s expression. “You forget that I am, in fact, a princess, and there is nothing any of them can do to gainsay me. Except perhaps Ñolwë, but he will not object, not in the end. And as I said, you’ve got more brains than most of them. Look at you, you know everything that goes on in this camp even before I do, and certainly long before Ñolwë or Finno.”

“Yes, but I’m not…”

“Not Ñoldorin? A point in your favour, I should say.” Lalwen lifted Elenniel’s freckled hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles. “Could even help relations with Doriath. Should they ever become more… existent.”

“You devious…” Elenniel broke off, laughing and shaking her head, before Lalwen pulled her into a deep kiss, their legs twining together in the warmth beneath the blankets.

Suddenly, Elenniel pulled back, as if remembering something anew. “Do you think… Turno… his wife was called Elenwë, was she not, the one who died…” her voice was clipped, precise and careful in its pronunciation of the foreign name. “Does he… I feel like I must cause him pain, being around so much…”

Lalwen sighed deeply. Elenwë, Elenniel. Near enough the same name, rendered in two different languages. Of course it must be hard for her nephew. And seeing the two of them with their newfound happiness, when he had lost so much…

“I do not deny that it is difficult for him, and I feel a little guilty sometimes. But I am not planning on giving you up. Besides, Irissë and Turukáno are going to leave together. They are taking some people and building a realm in Nevrast.” Lalwen knew she would miss them, but she felt suddenly fiercely proud of her niece and nephew.

“I… I hope that will be enough for them. I wish them well.” Elenniel looked a little mollified at least.

Lalwen curled her own body closer to Elenniel’s, enjoying the sensation of warm skin touching all the way from their shoulders to their feet. “You worry about things that are not your fault and you have no power to change.”

Elenniel smiled a little, kissing the top of Lalwen’s head. “I know, I know. I’ve always been that way, I’m afraid.”

The corner of Lalwen’s mouth quirked with laughter. “Well, can you postpone your worrying for a little while at least?”

Elenniel was smiling properly now, although still appeared a little wan. “For you, anything.”

Lalwen slipped her arms around Elenniel properly this time, turning them both so that Elenniel was above her, silver hair hanging loose and tickling Lalwen’s cheeks. The blankets fell away and Lalwen could see the whole of her now; her strong, supple arms, her small breasts, the skin a little paler than that on her neck and arms. Her narrow waist curving outwards to elegantly wide hips. Once again she marvelled at Elenniel’s beauty and her own luck to have found her through the intricate network of chance and happenstance that had brought them together.

Elenniel sat astride Lalwen, pulling her close for an eager, demanding kiss that set Lalwen’s heart thudding in her chest and a heat glowing between her legs. She had been Elenniel’s first, she knew, but now the girl grew bolder and more self-assured by the day. She recalled feeling guilty then, because Elenniel seemed so young, only barely an adult, but now… they had both grown, she knew, grown together, their lives intertwining inexorably with each moment they spent together. They broke apart, and Lalwen was met with the site of Elenniel smiling, her lips slightly parted and delicately flushed, maddenly alluring in the golden lamplight.

“Ai, you are so beautiful” muttered Lalwen distractedly. “So, so beautiful. How did I ever find you? How will I ever manage to keep you?”

“I’m not going anywhere soon, except if it’s with you.” Elenniel was determined now, and she threw her arms around Lalwen’s neck. “I’m convinced it’s some sort of fate or doom that brought you to me from all the way across the sea and the Ice. Although not the terribly grim sort of doom that your people are always talking about so solemnly.”

Lalwen laughed lightly. “One can only hope.”

With that she craned her neck up and kissed Elenniel on the mouth again. The kiss was slow this time, and Lalwen let it linger, simply enjoying the feeling of their tongues slipping over and past each other. Then Elenniel ran the very tip of her tongues lightly over Lalwen’s lower lip, slowly and deliberately. That put an end to the languid nature of the kiss; Lalwen drew Elenniel closer, letting her arms slip around her waist. Their kisses were hungry now, urgent, hands questing over skin, Elenniel’s fingers twining through the knots in Lalwen’s already unruly hair. Her hand snagged in a tangle, pulling Lalwen’s head back and causing her to release a muffled exclamation. Elenniel released her hair immediately, kissing Lalwen’s throat that was suddenly thrown bare before her. Lalwen purred appreciatively as Elenniel trailed kisses along her collarbone.

Lalwen slipped her hand beneath the blankets, letting her fingers trail along Elenniel’s thigh before she felt the curls of hair, and then the wetness already gathering amongst them as Elenniel kissed Lalwen’s breast, working her way towards the nipple and letting her tongue flash lightly over it. She felt Elenniel’s body twitch as Lalwen’s fingers found her clit, moving in slow circles, growing faster all the time. Elenniel’s silver hair spilled loose over Lalwen’s breasts and stomach and she knotted her other hand through it, even as she felt Elenniel’s hand slide between her own legs and begin to elicit shudders and starts of pleasure in her.

Elenniel raised her head then to kiss her lips again, pushing her back into the pillows, stopping Lalwen’s cries with her sweet mouth.  
“You… you are perfect” said Lalwen out of the corner of her mouth, drawing in gasps of breath between kisses. Their teeth bumped together now, both of them breathing raggedly as they touched each other. “You must not ever leave me, you know? Stay here?” Her voice sounded vulnerable and very, very young, even to her own ears. “Stay with me?”

“Of course” replied Elenniel, her voice breathless. “I… ah! I would never… never go anywhere…” she paused. “You Golodhrim like to talk, don’t you? So many words, and you must know my answers already!”

Lalwen smiled then, into the kiss. “You’re right, my people talk entirely too much.” She broke away from the kiss to look into Elenniel’s deep brown eyes, smiling wickedly. “I can think of a better use for my mouth at this moment…” she began a deliberate line of kisses down Elenniel’s throat, over her breasts (although Lalwen could not quite resist pausing for a moment there before continuing on her way), down over her stomach. Finally she reached what she sought, letting her tongue do its familiar work, familiar but each time so new and bright. She inhaled her lover’s scent, tasted her, felt the waves of pleasure pulsing through both their bodies as their minds shifted and began to merge a little at the edges. She had been unable to describe the joy she had felt the first time she had felt Elenniel’s mind nudge at hers, and still it brought her a stab of euphoria that was almost painful. But she could feel Elenniel’s quick and skilful fingers slipping in and out of her still, twisting and rubbing, knowing exactly how to take her apart and leave her helpless with pleasure, after all their times together.

She knew before she felt Elenniel’s body tense and her moan shuddering from her lips with the sweet certainty of one who is sharing the other’s thoughts. Combined with those clever fingers it tipped her just enough over the edge for her to wait just a moment longer than Elenniel. For a long while afterwards they simply lay cocooned in a tangle of limbs and blankets, in no hurry to let the golden brightness subside. Finally Lalwen sat up, sweeping back the mass of hair that had fallen over her face. She pulled Elenniel into a sitting position and kissed her again, feeling Elenniel smile into the kiss at her own taste that still lingered on Lalwen’s lips.

The lamp went out at some point, but it was cold in the room, so neither of them got up to light it again. The light of a full moon streamed in through the window anyway, bathing them both in silver.

“I wish you could have seen Telperion” said Lalwen after a while. “I mean, your hair would put it to shame, but - ”  
She was interrupted by Elenniel laughing, lifting a strand of the silver hair in question and swatting Lalwen across the cheek with it.  
“It’s true!” protested Lalwen. “Don’t listen to what the poets say. They never saw you…”

“I would have liked to have seen it” said Elenniel, more serious now and little wistful. “All the wonders you talk about, all the light. You certainly know how to seduce one who was named for the stars.”

Lalwen looked indignant. “So, it was my stories then that seduced you? Only those, my sweet? Are you sure?” She turned Elenniel’s head towards her and kissed her lightly at the corner of the mouth.

“My lady - ” she deftly dodged Lalwen’s own swipe at her with a lock of her hair at the name, “I am mistaken of course. You have many admirable… qualities to you. How could I say otherwise?”

“Glad to hear it” smiled Lalwen. Her face turned suddenly serious again. “You will come, won’t you? When we leave Mithrim?” She caught herself. “I mean, only if… your people…” she tailed off weakly. Her people. I’m asking her to leave her people. And she is still so very young, even if she does not always seem so.

“You know the answer is yes. Always and forever, yes.”

Lalwen sighed a troubled sigh, wondering what was to come for the two of them. But she smiled in spite of herself. “Very good. Then we shall be the talk of all the gossips from Nevrast to Ossiriand and beyond, and I won’t regret it for a moment.”

“Certainly not. And what sort of - ” she kissed the tip of Lalwen’s ear, making her tremble a little “ – lascivious things do you suppose they’ll say about us?”

She regained her composure in a moment. “Oh no, nothing too scandalous, I would think… but they will talk of the king’s sister, and how one day she chanced upon a silver star to point her on her way.”


End file.
